


Grand Slam

by shrift



Series: Sports Night Fanworks [13]
Category: Sports Night
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-15
Updated: 2007-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/pseuds/shrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robots, physics, lies, and turkey sandwiches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Slam

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Putting the Sports Back in Sports Night challenge, for the prompt: _Roger Federer wins three Grand Slams and plays in the final of the 4th._
> 
> Beta by Nestra.

Danny and Casey were in the editing room watching tape when they first suspected that something was awry in the world of tennis.

"When did this happen?" Danny demanded.

"You mean when did Federer become the silent Swiss terror?" Casey asked.

Danny waved his hands at the monitor. "He's the tennis robot of doom! When did this happen?"

"Many experts would say Wimbledon in 2001, when he beat Sampras in the fourth round," Jeremy said from the doorway. "It's considered a major turning point in his career."

Danny hauled Jeremy inside by his shirtsleeve and pointed at the screen where Federer was playing Mark Philippoussis. "Look at this. How did he do that? That move right there?"

"Wow." Jeremy pushed his glasses up his nose. "I think he just defied the laws of physics."

"I am telling you, tennis robot of doom!" Danny said.

"I need to run some calculations." Jeremy turned on his heel, muttering obscure mathematics under his breath as he left the editing room.

"He's not human," Danny said.

"Oh, please. Look at him. He's a baby," Casey said. He dropped his head in his hands and felt incredibly old. "I can't believe I just said that."

Danny patted his shoulder. "In a couple more years, you'll be chasing kids off the lawn with your walker."

"That is a terrible thing for you to say," Casey said, peering at Danny through his fingers.

"Oh, _please_," Dana said, poking her head inside the door. "You've been chasing kids off your lawn like a Scooby-Doo villain for years. And we need to fill in the 20s. Apparently Green Bay is having a monsoon."

"Okay," Danny said.

"We're also blowing off 31 and 32," Dana said.

"I have far too much gravitas for a Scooby-Doo villain," Casey protested. He was a pundit, after all. That required a certain amount of on-air respectability.

Dana smiled. "It's so cute that you think that. Isn't it cute, Dan?"

"It's very cute," Danny said.

"I am not cute," Casey said. "Wait. I am cute."

"The man has a point," Dana told Danny.

Danny smiled. "I'm pretty cute, too."

Dana tapped her clipboard against the door frame. "31 and 32."

"Got it," Casey said.

"Great. Now get back to work," Dana said.

They turned back to the monitor. Danny watched Federer take another game, crossed his arms, and quietly said, "Robot."

Casey stared at him. "You are a very strange man."

"It works for me," Danny said.

* * *

Danny sprawled on the couch in their office and tossed a tennis ball in the air. "He speaks three languages, his foundation helps disadvantaged children in South Africa, and he just turned the ripe old age of 23."

Casey glanced up from his laptop. "R-Fed."

"R-Fed," Danny repeated, his hand clenched around the tennis ball. He looked like Casey had just made insulting comments about his mother.

"Yeah, R-Fed. You know," Casey said, waving his hand.

"Did you just impugn Roger Federer by associating him with a sleazy backup dancer whose only notable accomplishment to date is marrying Britney Spears?"

"I did not impugn Roger Federer," Casey argued. "I was simply making a joke."

"Do you know what Federer did this year?" Danny asked.

"Yes, I do work in sports broadcasting, Danny. I've seen the tape," Casey said.

"He took down Safin in the Australian Open, he came back from a first set loss and defeated Roddick for Wimbledon, and most recently facing off with Lleyton Hewitt at the U.S. Open, he won two out of three sets at love," Danny said.

Casey went back to writing his half of their script. "All things I already knew."

Danny bounced the tennis ball on the floor. "He'll take the Tennis Masters Cup this year. I'm calling it now."

"Considering that he took it from Agassi last year, I don't think that's much of a stretch," Casey said.

"I am just saying that he is a talented young athlete with a very bright future," Danny said.

Casey thought about throwing his pencil at Danny's head. "Can we talk about something else now?"

Danny leaned over the arm of the couch and grabbed a Red Bull from the refrigerator. "And yet I still suspect he's a robot."

"Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto," Casey said.

Danny opened his Red Bull and took a swig. "Quoting Styx will not make you cool, Casey."

"Fine," Casey said.

"In fact, I think you need to come to terms with the fact that you will never be cool. Your cool window has expired. You will shuffle off this mortal coil utterly lacking in cool, and I just want you to know that it's okay. We still love you."

Casey threw his pencil at Danny's head. Danny dodged it, and didn't even spill his Red Bull.

"Yeah, well, I don't love you," Casey said.

"Yeah, you do," Danny said blithely.

"I just said I didn't," Casey said.

Danny shrugged. "Yeah, but you were lying."

Casey gave up the pretense of working and rolled his office chair over to the couch. "I wasn't lying, Daniel."

"Of course you were lying," Danny said. "I'm very lovable."

"I'm not loving you very much right now," Casey said.

"Oh, please," Danny said. "How long have we been partners?"

"Eleven years," Casey answered immediately. "But I think that has more to do with professional masochism on my part rather than your reputed lovability."

Danny squinted at him. "You are not getting lucky tonight, my friend."

Just then, Elliott walked in the door and turned right back around. Casey watched Elliott practically tackle Kim, even though he was pretty sure they weren't speaking right now for some mysterious reason that Danny and Natalie surely would know.

"Right back at you," Casey said. He retrieved his pencil and threw it at Danny again. It hit square in the Dartmouth logo on Danny's sweatshirt.

* * *

Federer did take the Tennis Masters Cup. He also lost the next Australian Open and the French Open, but made up for it with four AMS titles, Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open again. Danny expanded his robot theory to include aliens and genetic engineering. Casey largely ignored him, which was his preferred method of coping with Danny's obsessions for most of the last decade.

Also, it was the year of being outed at work, but Casey spent a lot of time trying not to think about that. Mostly because he spent a large portion of that year in denial. Casey was good at denial.

"So last year, when you abruptly went insane for two months and slept your way through New York's most eligible bachelorettes," Dana said, perching on his desk and swinging her feet. She was grinning. Casey prepared himself for the worst.

"Yes?" Casey asked.

"What was up with that?" Dana asked.

Casey didn't look at her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Tell me, Casey," she said.

"It's personal," Casey insisted.

Dana stopped swinging her feet. "I've been your friend for over twenty years, Casey, and last year you came very close to permanently ruining my show. I think I deserve to know why. Whenever you ruin my show, there's always something big going wrong in your life, Casey."

Such as a trial separation from his best friend, which had sucked just as hard as a real divorce.

Casey took a deep breath. And then another one. "Danny admitted to having some feelings for me."

"Feelings," Dana said.

"Certain feelings, yes," Casey said. It had been a far cry from the feelings Casey was comfortable expressing and accepting. Such as, "I love you like a brother," and also, "I love you like a friend." Casey really hadn't been expecting, "I love you and want to kiss you on the mouth in a very inappropriately friendly manner."

"And you, what," Dana said, "you freaked out and went on a quest to prove your heterosexuality."

Casey wouldn't quite call it that, but, "...yes."

"So what happened?"

Casey glared at her. "You locked us in the editing room and barricaded the door, that's what happened."

"You were ruining my show!" Dana said, poking him in the chest with her pointy index finger.

"And we stopped ruining your show," Casey said. "Unless you paid people to give us all those awards, and if you did, I suggest that you don't tell Danny. He still sleeps with his Peabody."

It hadn't been the fight to end all fights, but it had resulted in Casey tentatively agreeing to a date, which at the time had been a very large concession on his part. But the way Danny's face had lit up, well... Isaac would have called it a steal.

"So you and Dan, you're really..." Dana said. She circled her finger in the air.

Casey didn't say anything. What was there to say, really?

"Wow," Dana said. "You're really... wow."

"Yeah," Casey said.

Dana blinked a lot, looked fleetingly uncomfortable, and then her brain clearly came back online. "This can't get out."

"I know," Casey said.

"No, really, Casey, this can't get out."

Casey sighed. "It's not like we're walking around Central Park holding hands."

"Please don't do that." Dana laughed nervously. "Are you happy?"

Casey didn't have to think about that one. "Yes."

Dana nodded. "That explains the incessantly cheerful whistling."

* * *

It was an unholy hour in the morning, and they were all still at the studio watching the 2006 Australian Open live broadcast of the men's singles final. It was Federer versus Baghdatis, and Federer was down a set. Privately, Casey thought he was too old to stay up this late when he had to work the next day, but he wasn't convinced it would be worth the teasing to admit it.

"I'm not worried," Danny said. "He spent that first set processing all of Baghdatis's data, and I predict that Federer will spend the next three sets systematically destroying him like the good little robot he is."

"Your robot theory lacks a certain measure of plausibility," Jeremy said. "Roboticists still aren't capable of reproducing a normal human gait, let alone the complex movements required of an all-court tennis player on Federer's level."

Danny countered with, "I didn't say he was a robot from Earth."

"Yes, that's well within the bounds of logic," Jeremy said.

"Shut up and watch Federer kick Cypriot ass," Natalie told them.

Federer took the second set 7-5, and the third 6-0. There was much rejoicing.

"That is so hot," Kim said.

"I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating Swiss chocolate," Natalie said.

"I'd do him," Kim agreed. She bit her knuckle while watching Federer fault on the first serve.

Danny nodded, staring intently at the television. "Mm."

Casey choked on his turkey sandwich. "Are you insinuating what I think you're insinuating?"

"What?" Danny asked. He raised his eyebrows and then bit down on an apple.

"That you'd do Roger Federer," Casey said.

Danny chewed and shrugged. "Hey, I'm pretty sure having mancrushes on professional athletes is in our job description."

Casey scoffed. "I don't think a 'mancrush' is supposed to be sexual in nature, Dan."

Danny pursed his lips. "It's a little bit sexual."

Casey turned in his seat and brandished his turkey sandwich. "Will? Chris? Help me out, here."

Will scratched his head. "I agree with Dan."

Chris was nodding. "It's a little bit sexual."

"Not _entirely_ sexual," Will said. "That would be manlust."

"What is wrong with you people?" Casey demanded.

"We take our homosocial bonding very seriously," Chris said.

Casey spit a piece of turkey sandwich in Kim's Diet Coke. Danny pounded on his back as Casey choked on a tomato slice.

"You all right there, partner?" Danny asked.

Casey pointed at Kim's Diet Coke and wheezed, "I'll get you another one."

"And what do you care who Dan wants to sleep with?" Natalie asked. "Oh, _wait_."

Casey clenched his jaw and did not comment. Commenting only led to further mockery and discussion of his sex life. And while Casey was perfectly happy with his sex life, he was a little tired of it being a source of rampant speculation at the office.

Maybe he shouldn't have sworn Danny to silence before their first date. Maybe the rest of the office wouldn't be so interested if they knew that Danny left hair in the sink after he shaved, and that Casey just wasn't a nipple man, or that Danny's mouth was made for giving head.

Thing was, Casey liked sharing things with Danny, but he was terrible at sharing with anyone else, although Dana often got an honorary mention.

Casey got Kim another Diet Coke from the craft services refrigerator. Federer continued to kick Cypriot ass, and won the last set 6-2.

"Baby's got another Grand Slam," Natalie announced.

"On that note," Casey said, "I am going home, and if makeup yells at me tomorrow because of the bags under my eyes, I'm pointing the finger at all of you."

Danny followed him into their office. "You good to drive?"

Casey yawned. "Yeah, I'm good."

"My place is closer," Danny said.

"I need to _sleep_, Danny," Casey said, shrugging on his coat.

"Dude," Danny said, laughing a little. "I'm so tired that there are two of you, and while occasionally that is a fantasy of mine, mostly I was thinking that a shorter commute might appeal to you."

"Right," Casey said. "Okay."

Danny smiled at him, mouth wide and his eyes sleepy. "You are such a dork."

"You love it," Casey said.

Danny grabbed his coat and nudged Casey's shoulder. "I really do."


End file.
